


Luck, Magic, Superstition

by Miratete



Series: Bedtime Stories [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Magical Artifacts, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Superstition, Wishful Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-21 18:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17048357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miratete/pseuds/Miratete
Summary: -o-o-o-o-o-A grateful patient gives First Aid a supposed magical charm--the use of which will lure a lover to one's berth.  Not that First Aid believes in magic.  But it would be kind of fun to try it out on Delphi's sexy CMO.-o-o-o-o-o-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starseeker95](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starseeker95/gifts).



-o-o-o-o-o-

“We call it a cross-stone. They're special.”

First Aid looked at the strange dark grey crystal in his hand—rough and dull and not particularly attractive except for its shape. Two prisms intersected each other perpendicularly to form a nearly perfect equilateral cross. “Special?”

The miner, a younger mech known as Hauler 341, leaned conspiratorially from the medberth. “Crush it in your hand, into sand. Then leave the sand in front of the door of someone you'd like to take to your berth.”

“You're giving this to me?”

“You've done so much for me here, so I want you to have it. I dug up three of them half a meta-cycle ago. Two were of the X shape, and this one, the best one, is of the perfect variety. I knew I was saving it for something special.”

“Is it valuable?”

The miner laughed, his new optics sparkling. He'd been brought in three days ago, blind and bleeding profusely. “A chunk of aluminum silicate is worthless, but you can't put a real price on a chunk of magic.”

First Aid cocked his head. It was an attractively shaped rock, but staurolites were just a by-product of the mining operations. They ended up in the massive piles of talings outside of the mines. A few rare ones did have a nice configuration such as this one and were thusly prized by the miners.

“We trade them with each other... and we use them if there's someone we fancy.”

“Oh...”

Hauler 341 folded First Aid's fingers closed over the crystal. “It increases the magic if you leave the sand beside the berth of your intended. Since this is the perfect sort, its magic is very strong.”

Magic. First Aid could possibly believe in luck, but not magic. These miners were a strange, superstitious lot. But his patient did indeed seem sincere. “Well thank you, Hauler. This is very kind of you. No one's ever...”

“First Aid?” Pharma called from the doorway of the recuperation ward.

“Pharma?” First Aid responded, quickly tucking away the staurolite into a pocket.

“First Aid? Could you come assist me in the fluid analysis laboratory?”

“Be right there!” First Aid turned back to Hauler 341, who had relaxed again onto the berth. “Thank you again. You're very kind.”

The miner gave him a warm smile. “Thank you, for all you've done for me.” And then his smile twitched with amusement. “And good luck with the cross-stone.”

First Aid felt a flush of heat through his transfluid as he hurried out and followed Pharma down the long corridors to the fluid analysis laboratory.

Luck. Magic. Superstition. These were strange things. Ancient things. Organic things. Cybertronians had technology to solve their problems and better their lives. Logically there was only chance at play.

He thought about the method. Crush the crystal. Scatter the sand. Get some action. Perhaps there were a few missing steps Hauler had not mentioned. Perhaps the supposed 'magic' was simply suggestion at work. A mech finding the dark grey bits of crystal outside his door or at the foot of his berth would realize that someone wanted him, which would probably start him thinking about interfacing, which might stir his desires and thus his willingness to take a lover should one suddenly present himself. Knowing that someone wanted you in a sexual manner was a proven psychological aphrodisiac. Suggestion was simply masquerading as magic. It then would be up to the user of the crystal to make himself conveniently available

Of course this involved a lot of theory and required a lot of circumstance, but it seemed a reasonable explanation. He could understand how a miner on finding the remains of a cross-stone might be led toward taking a lover.

Suddenly a reflected flash of light off of Pharma's plating caught First Aid across the optics. He stopped looking blankly at the floor beneath him and instead watched the jet walking ahead of him.

Everyone said that Pharma had an attractive frame, and it was certainly true. But Pharma was more than just and attractive frame. He was an amazing medic with a remarkable career and a sharp wit and a sense of determination. His personality was cold and unwelcoming, but on rare occasions he could be warm and enticing. Add that to a handsome face and a waist that just begged for hands to be wrapped around it. First Aid had fantasized about Pharma now and then, imagining the jet doing rather unprofessional things to his frame after hours. But he'd never once acted upon such thoughts, pushing them down quickly if they ever rose outside of his quarters. Within his quarters though... thankfully the walls were soundproof and thankfully neither Pharma nor Ambulon were of the snooping sort.

A relationship though? Pharma certainly wouldn't be interested in him. Especially not after his demotion.

A wanton thought suddenly rose in his processors.

First Aid smiled beneath his mask. Yes, Pharma would be worth trying this odd little gift on. It probably wouldn't work, but it would be fun to try. And it certainly wouldn't hurt. At worst Pharma might find the sand outside his door and demand an overhaul of Delphi's cleaning drones.

And if it did work...

-o-o-o-o-o-


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Aid sneaks through the abandoned halls of Delphi to cast the spell upon Pharma, only to find a most unexpected surprise waiting in the CMO's habsuite.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Night.

The wind whistled against the medical facility's exterior. Messatine's perpetual winter howled at being closed out of the peace and calm inside.

All was shut down and locked up. The patients were all in forced stasis. Ambulon would be in his quarters, probably asleep. Pharma would probably be in his office or one of the labs. The security team? It had been so quiet lately that the only thing that got them to look at the monitors or leave their station-suite was an actual call or an alarm.

First Aid crushed the cross-stone in his hand, grinding the soft crystal between his fingers and palm, and dropped the resultant sand into a surgical tray. Looking at the tiny shards he smirked. This was ridiculous. A pulverized rock was going to get Pharma into his berth? Like Pharma would ever want him, even if Pharma knew the nurse wanted him.

Pharma was much too good for him.

Maybe he should scatter the sand in front of Ambulon's door. Ambulon, uptight and reserved as he was, could probably use a good frag.

First Aid put a cover over the tray and took a deep invent. Time to prove that there was no such thing as magic. He left his quarters at the head of the ward, noting that Ambulon's door across the hall was dark. The ward manager had as usual tucked down early.

First Aid moved through the corridors of Delphi quietly, coming eventually to the residence zone. When Delphi had been a busier place during the war, this area had been full of doctors and surgeons and support staff. Now only Pharma and the sound of the wind lived there, his office located in one corridor and his residence down the next. Seeing the light on in Pharma's office, First Aid slipped down a back hallway to where the CMO lived. This was good. Pharma often worked late, and always alone.

Coming to Pharma's door, he pulled the tray from subspace and was about to remove the lid when he realized the door before him was partly open. First Aid flinched, hoping to Primus that Pharma hadn't just returned to grab something out of his habsuite and would be popping back out at any moment. But then he saw that the lights inside were off. No. Pharma wasn't there. He'd just gotten lazy. There was really no reason for him to lock his door or even close it if he was going to be nearby. The patients were all in stasis. New admissions would be announced well before they arrived. Official visitors only had the upper landing pad or the front doors as entry options, and they always came announced. Security wouldn't enter someone's quarters unless they had a reason. Intruders? No one came to Delphi. No one wanted to come to Delphi.

Hauler's words floated back to him. “It increases the magic if you leave the sand beside the berth...”

First Aid's spark surged. Did he dare?

The nurse pushed gently on the door, which slid silently open to the room beyond, lit only by a convenient nightlight. Beyond the main room lay two doors, both of which were also slightly open. All of the habsuites at Delphi had the same layout. One door would lead to the washrack and the other to the berthroom. Stepping inside, First Aid decided that he definitely dared. He moved quietly toward the doorway he knew would be the berthroom, the doorway outlined by the soft glow of another nightlight just inside. This would be quick and dirty. Just go in through the half-open door, dump out the broken crystal beside the bed, and get out. That's all it would take.

Pushing the door to the berthroom open the rest of the way he took a step in. But suddenly realized that his plan...

Why had he ever thought he could do this? What ever had he been thinking?

Pharma was at home. And he was awake. And he wasn't alone either.

The CMO looked up at him from the deeply padded berth as First Aid stood in the doorway, his pale blue optics fixing intently on First Aid. A wicked smile crept across his lips.

Pharma's guest lay face up on the berth with his head away from the door, spread-eagled with his array open. His long purple and white spike stood at attention. Pharma lay atop him, facing the door and his weight pinning the mech beneath him in place. His glossa and lips and mouth were working the spike in front of his face. The glazed look of pleasure in his optics hinted at his array being open as well and subject to the same if not similar treatment. But that pale blue gaze never unlocked itself from First Aid as he continued to service the mech under him.

First Aid felt his fans speed up. The display before him... it was too much. Pharma's mouth moved so sensually... so intimately. That dark grey glossa writhed and slid over the bright spike with such skill. And the mech beneath him was definitely enjoying the attentions. Small moans and gasps occasionally erupted from his vocalizer attesting to Pharma's talent. But there was more. Pharma had an arm hooked under the mech's leg and had his long fingers probing those wet valve folds. And even as First Aid stood there staring, paralyzed by shock and something he couldn't quite name, the mech cried out in overload, gasping Pharma's praises and arching up from the berth, his strength enough to lift Pharma.

First Aid found his fuel pumps freezing up. He knew that on infrequent occasions the CMO took one of their patients to his berth—there were a couple of supervisors at the mines he deigned as suitable companions. But this was no miner.

Ambulon. Unexciting, unadventurous, unsexy Ambulon. He would never have seen this coming. He felt a sudden sadness as well. Why would Pharma have chosen Ambulon over him? Beneath his mask First Aid was just as if not more handsome. And much kinder. And definitely loving. He wasn't inexperienced either. He'd had plenty of lovers through his life.

First Aid watched as the ward manager bucked and moaned, his spike spilling transfluid which was quickly lapped up by Pharma, at least until Pharma latched his lips around it and sucked at the tip with enough force to elicit a new wave of pleasured cries. Ambulon sank back down against the berth, whimpering and continuing to twitch in the aftershocks.

No. This wasn't right. Pharma was supposed to be his. Not Ambulon's. This was supposed to be his bit of magic.

His frame trembling and tears about to fall, First Aid backed out of the room and fled.

-o-o-o-o-o-


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Embarrassed and upset, First Aid flees back to his quarters, only to face his frustration and a charge that isn't about to disappear on its own.

-o-o-o-o-o-

In his quarters again, the doors all locked and his still shaking frame tucked ashamedly beneath a couple of thermal blankets, First Aid wept into his pillow. What he'd seen... it would take a mnemosurgeon to erase. But then he didn't want to delete it either. Handsome Pharma, pleasuring that beautifully long purple and white spike, devouring every splash of silvery transfluid. Ambulon's pantings of ecstasy were stimulating in and of themselves.

First Aid's fingers slipped down to the rapidly heating panel over his array. The components beneath had come online, responding to First Aid's feverish train of thought. The cooling fans in his lower torso responded as well. And as the protective plate opened, First Aid threw off the thermal blankets, the cocoon of warm air around him too much to bear. His free hand slipped beneath his pillow and wrapped around the false spike he kept there, his small amount of comfort on those lonely nights.

It wasn't fair, he thought as he clutched the toy. If only that had been him there in Pharma's grace. He imagined those skilled fingers against the entrance of his valve, rubbing and teasing. He imagined taut lip components pulling at his array and sucking at his spike. But no. Ambulon had hijacked his fantasy, his wish, his magical dream. He'd wanted Pharma a long time but had never dared tell him. And Pharma had never seemed the least bit interested in him anyway. How many nights had he lain here, working the false spike in his valve, desperately imagining Pharma having his way with his weak but very willing frame.

But seeing it right in front of him. Hearing Ambulon moan and cry. Smelling the fluids and the ozone. Knowing Pharma was consciously and wickedly tormenting the nurse with those pale blue optics and that long serpentine glossa. Oh those fingers fluttering through Ambulon's slick valve lips.

He had been right to flee. The sensory and emotional stimulation could have overloaded him right there in the doorway.

First Aid pulled the false spike from beneath his pillow and eased it into his already slick valve.

The toy was definitely smaller than Ambulon's unexpected length. And possibly smaller than Pharma's as well. He'd not gotten a look at at the latter. He slid the setting switch to the first vibration rhythm. It felt good. But he was sure the real thing felt a lot better. The real thing had to feel a lot better. He moved the switch to the second setting, his processors trying to align the toy's stimulation with imagined images of Pharma attending to his secret needs.

The third setting...

The fourth...

By the time First Aid had gotten to the seventh setting he heaved a deep sigh of disappointment. He switched the buzzing nuisance off and stuffed it back under his pillow frustratedly. Tonight... tonight there would be no substitute for the real thing. What had started out as a foolish fantasy had only made him into a fool. Luck. Magic. Superstition. It was all a sham. An idiotic concept. He would have been better off keeping the staurolite crystal and trading it to another miner for something of real value.

First Aid sat up in the berth and reached for his covers, pulling them back up around him. But he only got them up to his hips when the berthroom door began to open.

Startled, he could only stare as the door slid back and Pharma stepped inside.

“Pharma?” he squeaked, pulling the blankets up higher in shame.

The CMO gave him that same dangerous smile he'd flashed when atop Ambulon. “Sorry to have to use my overrides to come in. You lost something...” He held the covered surgical tray out in front of him. 

First Aid could only gasp and tremble, and only continued to do so as Pharma came to the berth and sat upon it. He must have dropped the tray somewhere in Pharma's quarters.

The jet opened the cover and then slid one finger about the pulverized contents. “A cross-stone? One of the miners must have really appreciated your care. They don't give them up easily.”

First Aid stared in mortification as the CMO's index finger continued to stir the rough sand. And then... Pharma tipped out the tray's contents beside the berth. “You only had to ask, you know.” He set aside the tray and reached for the nurse, one arm sliding behind First Aid's back and the other pulling away the thermal covers.

-o-o-o-o-o-


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As First Aid surrenders to Pharma in the berth, he comes to accept that such things as luck, magic, and superstition must exist.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Luck. Magic. Superstition. They had to be real. There was no other way to explain how he'd gotten to this point in less than a day.

First Aid groaned as he sank down onto the magnificent width of Pharma's spike. He could feel his calipers spreading to take the intrusion, opening eagerly and then straining to accommodate the last little bit of girth. One arm braced against the wall to steady his descent but it was not enough to keep him steady as the tip of the spike shoved into the vestibule of his gestation chamber. He jolted, gasping in an unfamiliar mix of excitement, pain, anticipation, and pleasure. 

“Easy there,” Pharma crooned, one hand reaching up to stroke white plating. “Don't force yourself.”

“I'm okay,” First Aid panted. “I'm just... wow... It's been such a long time, and I never thought... Well you're...”

“First Aid, hush. Just enjoy.”

The nurse tried to silence himself—not an easy task. Pharma's spike felt amazing inside of him. 

“When you're ready, move a little bit. Bring yourself to overload,” Pharma instructed.

“What about you? I want you to enjoy this too,” First Aid responded, trying to disconnect his vocalizer from his sensor net for a moment.

“Oh don't worry. I'll take my pleasures when I want. Just make sure you enjoy yourself.”

First Aid cycled his vents and then began to rock his hips, whimpering quietly at the sensations coming from deep inside. Alone, the fact that Pharma was deep enough inside him to dock into the vestibule was triggering all sorts of excitement—along with queries from his frame regarding initiating breeding protocols. “I am enjoying myself. I'm so close already,” he panted.

“Then let's finish you, yes?” Pharma's hands moved, one to cup the nurse's aft and the other to grasp the red and white spike bobbing in front of him. He began to guide the movement, picking up the pace a little and pushing up his own hips from below.

“Oh... ooh Pharma,” the nurse whimpered, optics dimming. “This is... this is amazing.” His words were coming out mixed with static, a sure sign that he was indeed close to a climax.

The CMO grinned, his hand closed loosely enough that the spike would slide through his fingers but tightly enough to work the sensors there. “Go ahead and overload for me,” he said smugly. “Show me how much you want this.”

Beneath his mask, First Aid bit his lip. He'd expected Pharma to be a decent 'face. After seeing him bring Ambulon to a strutless release, he knew he was good. But after partaking of a sample of his own, he knew the mech was perhaps as skilled a lover as he was a surgeon. His dentae pinched his lip harder, hoping the pain would stall his climax just a little longer, but to no avail. With a few more thrusts up into his valve and a cry to Primus he released it, all but wailing in pleasure as he overloaded. And this would be no quick overload he realized with the last of his processing power. Beneath him Pharma was pumping hard into his valve while his hand squeezed the length of his spike. That pinnacle of ecstasy was no pinnacle, but a broad plateau he rolled across, blown helplessly into the white-hot bliss of unbelievable pleasure.

-o-o-o-o-o-

When First Aid came to, he expected to find Pharma departed, having left him cold and sticky and completely debauched, the nurse having no more than a memory of a mysterious yet magnificent one-night-stand to hang onto.

Instead, Pharma had not left. The CMO was still there, and still in the berth, and still inside of him, his fans running at mid-speed and his frame purring happily. Their positions had changed though; First Aid found himself on his back and Pharma atop him, pushing his spike in and out of First Aid's rather slippery valve. “Welcome back,” he said smugly on noticing his partner stirring. “Have a nice recharge?”

“I'm sorry... it hit me too hard to stay online,” First Aid apologized. He cringed when he noted that he'd been unconscious for more than twenty kliks.

“It has been a while, hasn't it?”

“Um... yeah,” he confessed. “I've just been a bit too busy to...” 

Pharma put his hand on First Aid's vocalizer, hushing him again. “Shhhhh,” he hissed, long and slow. “Now is the time to enjoy. Not to regret.” To emphasize his point, he lifted one hand and pushed open First Aid's mask. Without breaking the coitus, he leaned forward and kissed the smaller mech.

First Aid froze when he felt Pharma's glossa slip out and prod his lips—that decadent tongue that had only a few cycles ago been doing such wonderfully obscene things to Ambulon. Helpless to everything, First Aid parted his lips and allowed Pharma to explore his mouth. This might still turn out to be a one-night-stand, so he might as well take the most of it.

Then Pharma pressed his lips to First Aid's forehead as he began to thrust harder into him. “I'm hoping you'll let me come visit you again, some nights...” he said quietly.

“You would like to?” First Aid asked. “But... what about Ambulon?”

“Ambulon has no say in where I spend my time, not if he wants to keep visiting me in my quarters. If that's all right with you.”

So that was how it was to be—Pharma and his two lovers, probably along with an occasional guest. Not that First Aid really minded at this point. It was obvious that there was more than enough of his supervisor to go around. “It's all right. I'm not the selfish or the jealous type.” And honestly, he might not be able to meet Pharma's needs by himself.

“Good. Now enough talk. I think it's time for a few more overloads.” Pharma bucked harder, pressing his hips more forcefully into First Aid's until they were flush together and the tip of Pharma's spike was grinding into the vestibule once more. Once more First Aid's frame asked if it should initiate those breeding protocols.

First Aid whimpered. It was all so amazing, and he hoped that the novelty would never wear off for either of them. He clenched his valve around the thick spike, tightening it every time he heard Pharma moan against his helm.

“Oh Primus... That feels so good,” Pharma wheezed. “I should have started visiting you long ago.” He continued to pound the mech beneath him, his pace steady and unrelenting, until First Aid grew dizzy and pleaded for another overload. “Will you let me come back tomorrow?” Pharma queried lustfully.

“I want you back tomorrow. Please, please come,” the nurse beneath him begged. “Oh please... just make me climax again.”

“Tonight or tomorrow?”

First Aid whined. “Tonight!”

“Needy little thing,” Pharma teased. He shifted positions once more, this time finding one in which he could rub First Aid's anterior node as he continued to thrust into him.

Emotionally and physically charged, First Aid succumbed to the assault, crashing into his second overload with a pained cry. And that was enough to tip Pharma over the edge as well, the jet groaning monstrously as he completed the act, flooding First Aid's rippling valve with a great scalding gush of transfluid. And he continued to gush as his thrusts grew erratic, Pharma coaxing the moment of highest pleasure out for as long as possible.

And at last they both collapsed onto the berth, spent and aching. First Aid knew he'd be a mess in the morning. His joints would be wobbling something fierce and his struts would feel overtaxed for some time. Not to mention the mess his plating probably was. But this night had been something worthy of such discomforts.

Gradually their fans and fluid pumps calmed, the pair having lain some time together on the berth, no more than their hands moving in tiny, caressing circles against each other. First Aid's static-laced hums of contentment eventually slowed, and he could feel his systems prepare for recharge.

Pharma rose, and quickly left the room. First Aid wasn't sure whether he should stop him to say goodbye or anything. But he returned very shortly with a towel from First Aid's washrack. He sat on the bed and began to wipe his lover's frame and the berth free of spilled fluids.

“Will you really come back tomorrow?” First Aid asked.

The mech smirked. “You're not as sweet and shy as you pretend to be, are you?”

First Aid looked away. “Sorry. I'm just... well that was amazing.”

Pharma laughed. “I'll be in tomorrow night... after I've taken care of Ambulon. He asked me to visit him also.” And then he grinned cruelly. “You know, he had a cross-stone as well. Someone gave him one last deca-cycle and he decided to try it on me too.”

For a moment First Aid felt a twinge of jealousy, even though he was sure he wasn't a jealous mech, and even though he'd assured Pharma he wasn't. But there really was enough of the CMO to go around, and Ambulon could probably use a regular frag as much as he could. Though he wondered why Ambulon had chosen Pharma over him. To be fair though, in that same situation he'd chosen Pharma as well.

Pharma leaned forward and kissed First Aid on the lips once more. “I'll see you tomorrow then,” he whispered seductively. “Not a spoken word though. Must stay professional, you know.”

“Of course.”

First Aid watched him depart before settling for a heavy recharge cycle. But when he realized he was still oozing Pharma's transfluid, he slipped the towel beneath his hips. He lay back, pulling the thermal cover over himself, all the way over his head. And suddenly the image of the cross-stone sitting in his hand came into his processors. Yes, there definitely had to be such things as luck, magic, and superstition.


End file.
